A terrible tragedy has struck my tiny little home town and I am shaken to my core over it.
For people I don't know and now, never will.
All I keep thinking is She has to go home without her babies and it makes me feel sick. Sick. Burying your kids is unnatural and will never, ever be okay.
The Morrison family was unknown to me, but not to the rest of my family. I am always surprised when I am affected by strangers and never really know how to act on it. This isn't the first time it's happened and yet, I still just don't know what to do. Openly weep? Shed silent tears? Keep it to myself, because seriously, I don't know these people? Or just be honest and accept that other peoples tragedy can hit really freaking close to home and that it is okay to affected by them. And it's okay to be really sad for them.
It could have been any one of us out there. It could have been me and my kids.
The good thing about small towns is they really know how to rally together in the wake of loss and there is small comfort in knowing this family will have love and support and help and many hands to make this load a little lighter. And with any hope (luck?), a little easier.
My heart breaks, again, for another Mama that has to not only bury one of her babies, but two and still try to live for herself and for her other son. The unfairness is gut wrenching.
I hugged my kids extra long tonight.
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